


The Opposite of Habit

by deepsix



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, accidental first almost kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepsix/pseuds/deepsix
Summary: Crowley had been holding up the regular order of business in the off-licence for a solid quarter of an hour before he realised what he’d done.





	The Opposite of Habit

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [on tumblr](https://gethporno.tumblr.com/post/185504846291/aziraphalecrowley-7) as a response to that kissing prompt meme: routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing.

Crowley had been holding up the regular order of business in the off-licence for a solid quarter of an hour before he realised what he’d done.

He _had_ been enjoying himself, before. The elderly man at the front of the queue had worked himself up into a real lather over his scratchoff ticket, angering the guy with the dog howling outside who’d only wanted a pack of smokes and instead was being treated to a treatise on the fundamental unfairness that this particular ticket, nor all eighty-seven prior ones this particular gentleman had purchased, was not a winning one. Meanwhile the baby in the pram towards the end of the queue had begun to squall, putting its mum to the verge of tears - all she’d wanted was some diapers to tide her over until tomorrow’s delivery came in, not a disquisition on the sham that was the National Lottery - and angering everyone (especially the dog tied up on the pavement) within a fifty metre radius, with the exception of the shop clerk who had dissociated so effectively that Crowley could see her soul beginning to depart this plane of existence.

It was, all said, a rather clever piece of work. Hell might not appreciate its subtlety, but it was always nice to send reminders Down There that he was still at work, in or out of their bad graces. They always appreciated the nice warm breeze of human wrath when they got it.

What ruined his self-satisfied contemplation was remembering that he’d promised Aziraphale he’d do a bit of off-setting good while he was out at the shop.

Oh, it wasn’t the fact of the promise; that was fine. He’d already decided to set the Piccadilly line running again just in time for the evening rush, and was even now doing mental some mental leaf cleanup. That bit was routine. No. It was remembering that as he was gathering his things back at Aziraphale's - shrugging back into his coat, looking around uselessly for his sunglasses - Aziraphale had said, "You're off already?"

"Mm," said Crowley noncommittally. Aziraphale had been ignoring him most of the afternoon, entirely preoccupied by something or other on his ancient computer,[*] so Crowley hadn't even been sure he'd known he was there, let alone leaving now.

"Well," said Aziraphale, turning in his chair. "If you're going out, and if you don't mind, I'm a little, ah." He hesitated, then made a complicated gesture with his hand. "Behind on my duties."

"Need a favour, do you?"

"Only if you don't mind," Aziraphale repeated firmly. Then he glanced back over at his desk, and snatched up an item that Crowley belatedly remembered had to be his sunglasses. "Either way, you'll want these if you're going out."

"Mm," Crowley said again, and went to retrieve his proffered sunglasses. He thought about saying thank you, and then thought worse of it. As it was, Aziraphale was watching as he slid them onto his face, and before he could think more of it, Crowley said, "I'll be back in a bit," and dropped a kiss on Aziraphale's upturned cheek.

And that was how, in the middle of an off-licence in the middle of the day, Crowley's smug enjoyment evaporated like so much fog on a hot day, and he realised this whole business with the angel had long since surpassed the bounds of mere friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> * It was practically three years old and had keys that were actually designed to be removed.[return to text]


End file.
